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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28008657">Of Books and Ballrooms</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Courtney621/pseuds/Courtney621'>Courtney621</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>AUSTEN Jane - Works, Northanger Abbey - Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>i just really enjoy forcing darcy to go to balls okay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:22:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,341</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28008657</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Courtney621/pseuds/Courtney621</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Darcys meet a new couple at a ball; Fitzwilliam does not find them terrible.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Catherine Morland/Henry Tilney, Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>187</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Of Books and Ballrooms</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“We have received an invitation to a ball, Fitzwilliam.”</p><p>It was best to get bad news out of the way early in the morning. Elizabeth Darcy knew that her husband was not eager for invitations in general, and an invitation to a ball was particularly odious to him.</p><p>Fitzwilliam’s expression betrayed his distaste. “And who is hosting this ball? Is it Bingley again?”</p><p>“<em>Shockingly</em>, it is not,” said Elizabeth. “It is your cousin, Robert.”</p><p>Fitzwilliam sighed deeply. An invitation from the viscount must be accepted.</p><p>“It will not be so bad,” she said consolingly. “Eleanor wrote a note to say there will not be <em>too </em>many people. It will not be overly-crowded.”</p><p>“That is almost worse. We will lose all anonymity among fewer people.”</p><p>“<em>You </em> are not anonymous in any room, my dear.” </p><p>This did not improve his mood. Elizabeth hated to see him uncomfortable.</p><p>“You are forgetting, Fitzwilliam, that you have <em>me </em>now,” she said. “You shall stay close to me and I will shield you from the worst of it.”</p><p>She took his hand and grinned winningly, provoking a small smile in return.</p><p>“I suppose there is no use in complaining about it,” he said. “How fortunate for Georgiana that she is away and will not be forced into attending.”</p><p>“Oh, she is not so fortunate after all,” Elizabeth contradicted him, wrinkling her nose. “I have heard from her as well this morning. The earl, it appears, is missing his sister, and Lady Catherine will be joining them by the end of the week.”</p><p>Fitzwilliam grimaced. “So we are all to suffer.”</p><p>“So it would seem.” She paused for a moment, then said teasingly, “The ball does not seem quite so great an evil now, though, does it?”</p><p>He did not disagree.</p><p>***</p><p>The day of the ball approached, and as their attendance required travel to a neighboring county, they had secured lodgings and arrived the night before. They had a quiet breakfast and a short walk the next morning, and Elizabeth was relieved to see, as they dressed for the evening, that the change of scenery had done them no harm. Fitzwilliam looked very handsome indeed, and she felt quite certain that her own appearance did her no discredit. She had a new gown for the occasion in a light, sunny, yellow color that her husband particularly admired her in, and her curls, usually so wild and unruly, had been made to submit by her maid in a manner that she thought rather becoming. To set the whole thing off, Fitzwilliam had surprised her with a lovely necklace.</p><p>“We could always stay here,” he whispered as he fastened it around her neck. He kissed her softly on the shoulder. “You could have a headache. I could fall suddenly and terribly ill.”</p><p>Elizabeth laughed and turned to face him. “We have already gone through the trouble of traveling here. It would be a pity if it were all for naught.”</p><p>“I suppose you are right,” he said with an exaggerated sigh that did not entirely hide his smile. He tucked an errant curl behind her ear. “But if I did not at least <em> try </em>to get out of going, you would think there was something the matter with me.”</p><p>Indeed, she had watched her husband closely that day, and as he looked no more solemn than usual, and as she herself was not dreading the evening, she began to have reasonable hopes for a pleasant ball.</p><p>***</p><p>Elizabeth had been determined to honor her promise of guarding her husband against the initial rush of the crowd, giving him more time to acclimate and to become comfortable, and was rather dismayed to find herself separated from him early in the evening. She tried not to appear too distracted as she talked with the viscount, but her eyes were searching for Fitzwilliam all the while. She finally spotted him; she was relieved to see him speaking with the viscountess and not with a stranger, and she allowed herself to relax and enjoy her civil conversation with her new cousin. She had not been often in company with Robert, but every time she met him, her liking for him increased. He had certainly treated her more cordially than most of Fitzwilliam’s relations had, which endeared him to her further, and he had the additional benefit of being married to a lovely woman who Elizabeth was similarly fond of.</p><p>Robert could not neglect his other guests for long, however, and Elizabeth was soon free to rejoin her husband. She was prepared to find him standing off to the side somewhere, politely distant and avoiding the crowd in general, and thus was slightly concerned to see him engaged in conversation with a pretty young woman who was speaking animatedly and, it seemed, at length. Fitzwilliam’s back was to Elizabeth, and she could not see his expression or whether he needed saving. </p><p>Elizabeth, self-commissioned as she was to protect her husband from as much society as possible, felt called to action. It was her sworn duty, therefore, to pass nearby in order to overhear their conversation, ascertain his level of comfort, and rescue him if necessary. To most people, perhaps, her eavesdropping in this way might be considered improper, but Elizabeth saw it as more of a reconnaissance mission.</p><p>To her very great surprise, however, Fitzwilliam was speaking, willingly and earnestly, to this young woman, and did not need rescuing at all. She felt a brief pang of jealousy - she was used to being the only creature he was comfortable with in a ballroom - before smothering it and chastising herself for her silliness. It was good for him to practice conversing more with strangers, and especially in a way that was clearly not painful to him. If she felt secretly envious of his attention when it was being given to someone else, she would certainly be loath to admit it.</p><p>She caught Fitzwilliam’s eye as she passed, and he gave her a reassuring sort of smile. Elizabeth smiled back at him warmly, and it grew as she overheard the topic of their discussion. Books. They were speaking of <em>books</em>. Fitzwilliam was forever trying to speak of books with someone other than Elizabeth and so very rarely found a partner willing to engage him. </p><p>She was walking away, still grinning to herself, when she was stopped by the viscountess, who had with her a young man. He was rather tall, a few inches shy of Fitzwilliam’s height, with a pleasing rather than handsome countenance, but there was something lively and intelligent in his expression that made up for whatever he lacked in the way of conventional good looks.</p><p>“My dear Mrs. Darcy,” said the viscountess, “allow me to introduce you to my older brother, Mr. Henry Tilney.”</p><p>Their greetings were properly made, Mr. Tilney and Elizabeth each saying exactly what was appropriate, and as the siblings stood side by side, she was able to trace the resemblance between them. They had the same kind eyes and general air of benevolence.</p><p>“I have already introduced Mr. Darcy and Mrs. Tilney, so it seemed only fair to extend the acquaintance,” Eleanor said. </p><p>“I do hope that we will find it an agreeable one,” said Mr. Tilney cheerfully, “for it has been made rather thoroughly and will be difficult to avoid now.”</p><p>“Henry!” Eleanor admonished. “You must forgive him, Mrs. Darcy. I am afraid he has always spoken chiefly to amuse himself, without regard to either politeness or propriety.” She said this in a scolding tone, but there was an indulgence in it that spoke of real affection.</p><p>“Indeed, I am not at all offended,” said Elizabeth. “I quite agree with Mr. Tilney. And now that the introductions have been made, we will all have to endure each other as best as we can, for the rest of the evening, at least.”</p><p>Eleanor smiled gratefully. She had met with Elizabeth often enough to recognize that Mrs. Darcy’s playfulness would not be easily insulted by her brother’s.</p><p>“I<em> thought </em> the two of you might understand each other well.”</p><p>“Your intuition remains immaculate, my dear Eleanor,” said Mr. Tilney. “Now, you need not worry about us any longer. You must not forsake all of your important guests on our account.”</p><p>“I have no worries about leaving him with you, my dear,” said Eleanor, placing a hand on Elizabeth’s arm. “You are more than capable of keeping his spirits in check.” </p><p>“My younger sister will have you believe that I am quite the unruly child in company,” said Mr. Tilney as the viscountess moved to circulate among the rest of the crowd. </p><p>“My acquaintance with your sister may be a relatively new one,” answered Elizabeth, “but I can easily see that she views an introduction to you as more of an honor than a punishment.”</p><p>Mr. Tilney laughed. “You give me too much credit. I assure you, she is hoping to keep me away from anyone who might find my manners too impertinent.”</p><p>“In that case,” said Elizabeth archly, “she may have been hoping the same for me. Perhaps this introduction was made more for the safety of the room in general than for any other reason. If we each keep the other occupied, neither of us will be able to provoke her other guests.”</p><p>“I am sure that no one would find your company displeasing,” said Mr. Tilney, rather gallantly. “And how long, may I ask, have you been acquainted with the viscountess?”</p><p>“I have not had that pleasure for very long,” said Elizabeth. “Only for about a twelvemonth. My husband and the viscount are cousins.” </p><p>She glanced towards Fitzwilliam, and Mr. Tilney followed her gaze. Mrs. Tilney was speaking quite energetically about something, her eyes shining.</p><p>“I hope that Mr. Darcy and Mrs. Tilney are each finding their new acquaintance as engaging as I find mine,” said Mr. Tilney, looking very tenderly at his wife. </p><p>“They did seem to be, when I walked by earlier,” said Elizabeth. “They were speaking of books.”</p><p>“Oh dear,” said Mr. Tilney, “I do hope that Mrs. Tilney is allowing Mr. Darcy the chance to speak.”</p><p>“I assure you, it is a subject that Mr. Darcy can speak on quite exhaustively himself.”</p><p>“And what does Mr. Darcy enjoy reading?”</p><p>“Oh, he reads everything,” said Elizabeth. “I do not think I have ever seen him turn a book away.”</p><p>“My wife’s taste runs more to the Gothic side,” said Mr. Tilney with amusement.</p><p>“Indeed, Mr. Darcy has been known to enjoy Mrs. Radcliffe himself, now and then.”</p><p>“In that case, Mrs. Tilney will have much to discuss with him.”</p><p>They looked fondly towards their spouses, still deep in conversation. Fitzwilliam seemed to be speaking now, and Mrs. Tilney was hanging on his every word.</p><p>“Are <em>you </em>partial to reading, Mrs. Darcy?” asked Mr. Tilney.</p><p>“Oh, yes,” said Elizabeth, “though I cannot claim to be the reader that Mr. Darcy is. He has collected so many books that there is scarcely room left in our library.”</p><p>“Mrs. Tilney is finding our own quite deficient in that regard.” </p><p>“You will have to adapt as we have and allow them to spill over into your drawing room and parlor.”</p><p>They continued pleasantly in that manner for a few minutes more, before they were interrupted by the arrival of their spouses to claim the first two dances.</p><p>***</p><p>“Have you and Mrs. Tilney gone over every book you both have read?” teased Elizabeth as she and Fitzwilliam went down the dance. “Have you thoroughly compared your opinions? Have all of your different feelings been accounted for?”</p><p>Fitzwilliam laughed. “I would not dare to be so presumptuous as to hold forth on the subject with you <em>here</em>. I do recall, Elizabeth, that you once informed me that you cannot talk of books in a ballroom.”</p><p>Elizabeth squeezed his hand. “And I recall telling <em>you</em>, Fitzwilliam, not to remind me of what I said back then. I hope you are not growing remiss after only a year of marriage.”</p><p>“I would not dream of it.”</p><p>“I am glad to hear you say so,” she said, “for I find myself more devoted to you than ever. It would be most unseemly if our affections were unequal.”</p><p>“There can be no danger of that.”</p><p>There was nothing new in this sentiment, and it was nothing that Fitzwilliam had not told her a thousand times over, but she still glowed with happiness to hear it. His eyes were sparkling, in that way they did only when he looked at her, and as much as Elizabeth appreciated a ball at any time, she would much rather be without the crowd at this moment.</p><p>“Hush now, Fitzwilliam,” she said. “This much adoration is unbecoming in an old married couple. If we grow any more demonstrative, we will be the talk of the room, and I know how little you will enjoy <em> that</em>.”</p><p>***</p><p>Elizabeth danced the next two dances with Mr. Tilney, then the next two with Fitzwilliam again, wanting his company more than any other’s. </p><p>At dinner, they sat near the Tilneys, and Fitzwilliam and Mr. Tilney launched into a spirited discussion on sermons, theology, and the church in general. Once or twice, Fitzwilliam gave a quickly-stifled but unmistakable laugh. Elizabeth watched her husband, cheerfully bemused. He was <em>enjoying </em>himself. Who would have thought?</p><p>“You have a very charming husband, Mrs. Darcy,” said Mrs. Tilney. </p><p>“I think so,” agreed Elizabeth. “And Mr. Tilney is a very agreeable man himself.”</p><p>“Oh, he is,” said Mrs. Tilney, slightly breathless. Here was another woman, Elizabeth thought, who was very much in love with her husband. She knew the signs well. “The very best man in the world. I am very fortunate.”</p><p>She talked on about Mr. Tilney’s many perfections, and of how they had met at a ball themselves, and something about muslin, and Elizabeth was entertained by the woman’s complete lack of affectation. </p><p>“Mr. Darcy and I <em> also </em>met at a ball,” said Elizabeth, smiling softly to herself.</p><p>“I cannot think of a better place to meet,” said Mrs. Tilney. “Mr. Tilney and I had such amusing conversations. He probably thought me very silly, but I had never spoken to someone so clever. And I do so love dancing. Mr. Tilney once compared marriage to a dance, and though I did not understand him at the time, I see now that he was quite right. Did you and Mr. Darcy dance together when you met?”</p><p>“No,” laughed Elizabeth. “Not the <em>first </em>time we met. Mr. Darcy is a most reluctant dancer.”</p><p>“Oh, but he danced so well tonight!” said Mrs. Tilney. “Well, then he must have spent the evening talking to you about books. He told me that you also enjoy reading.”</p><p>Elizabeth thought of their early meetings in Hertfordshire and bit her lip to keep from laughing. She made an evasive sort of answer, which nevertheless seemed to satisfy Mrs. Tilney.</p><p>“I had never met a man who enjoyed a book as much as Henry, until I met Mr. Darcy,” said Mrs. Tilney. “He was telling me of your library at Pemberley, Mrs. Darcy, and it sounds delightful.”</p><p>“It <em>is </em>quite impressive,” said Elizabeth. “You and Mr. Tilney are welcome to visit, if you are ever in Derbyshire.”</p><p>Mrs. Tilney was effusive in her gratitude, and Elizabeth found herself liking her more and more, with all of her artlessness and sweetness of manner.</p><p>“There is no need to thank me,” said Elizabeth. “We do have family connections, after all, and it has been very pleasant to become acquainted with you, Mrs. Tilney.”</p><p>“Please,” said Mrs. Tilney, “call me Catherine.”</p><p>***</p><p>After dinner, Mrs. Tilney - <em> Catherine </em> - again approached Fitzwilliam, this time hoping for him to provide recommendations for “more serious novels.” Fitzwilliam, though plainly surprised by the request, was not displeased by it. Mr. Tilney had turned his head away to hide his amusement, but covered it up more thoroughly by engaging Elizabeth in conversation once more. He and Fitzwilliam had spoken of their homes and their counties, and Mr. Tilney, it transpired, was not unfamiliar with the Darcys’.</p><p>“My mother was from Derbyshire,” he said, “and I have heard much of Pemberley’s beauty, though I have never been there myself.”</p><p>“Mr. Darcy and I would be pleased to show it off, should you ever be traveling through.”</p><p>He thanked her with a bow, and added with mock solemnity, “It is a grand estate, I am sure, yet I am afraid it is not quite ancient and moldering enough for Mrs. Tilney’s taste.”</p><p>Elizabeth smiled. “We will try not to be affronted.”</p><p>They were not long afterward separated by the call for music and singing, and the separation proved to be lasting; they saw no more of the Tilneys until they took their leave. As she politely watched the young ladies exhibit, however, Elizabeth considered that their company had been most rewarding, that she liked them both very much, and that she hoped to see them again before long.</p><p>***</p><p>Later that evening, when they were alone together, Elizabeth turned to Fitzwilliam slyly.</p><p>“You seemed to enjoy Mrs. Tilney’s company.” She sighed dramatically. “I wonder if this is how Miss Bingley felt.”</p><p>She laughed as he flushed. </p><p>“You <em> know </em> I am teasing you Fitzwilliam.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest. “I am quite used to seeing women fawn over you. It is only a new sensation to find one so interested in your <em>mind</em>. I have never had reason to feel so watchful before.” </p><p>Fitzwilliam held her closer. “You have no reason to feel so <em> now</em>.”</p><p>“I know.” She sighed again, happily this time. “The Tilneys are an agreeable couple.”</p><p>“Yes,” Fitzwilliam agreed. </p><p>"Mrs. Tilney is a sweet girl."</p><p>"She makes me think of Georgiana." He cleared his throat. "Before Ramsgate. Open. Guileless." He smirked. "Fond of the same books."</p><p>“And did<em> you </em> have many books in common?”</p><p>“No,” he admitted. “She thought it very odd that I have never read <em> The Romance of the Forest</em>, and strenuously urged me to rectify the situation.”</p><p>She squeezed him playfully. “You do enjoy being challenged by a pretty woman.”</p><p>He pressed his forehead to hers. “You would know.” He fiddled idly with a few of her curls that had tumbled free from their elegant arrangement. “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”</p><p>“You have,” she said. “But I do not dislike hearing it.”</p><p>“You were by far the most beautiful woman in the room.”</p><p>“Such <em>lies</em>, Fitzwilliam, and told so easily. How very shocking!”</p><p>“I speak nothing but the truth.”</p><p>She wondered if it was quite normal to feel this fluttery and giddy with one’s husband, then decided she enjoyed the feeling too much to fret about its decency.</p><p>“Mr. Tilney is a very amiable man,” she said.</p><p>“He reminds me of you, a little.”</p><p>“Does he?”</p><p>“Clever, lively--”</p><p>“Saucy,” Elizabeth added. “Impertinent.”</p><p>“Well, I find it more alluring in you,” Fitzwilliam said, kissing the tip of her nose.</p><p>They laughed at this, then lapsed into a companionable silence. Elizabeth felt relaxed and content, enjoying the warmth of the fire and the feel of his arms around her. </p><p>“I have invited them to Pemberley,” she said, looking up at him to gauge his expression.</p><p>He considered this for a moment. “We have certainly made more disagreeable acquaintances.”</p><p>“To own the truth, I think they just want a peep at the library.”</p><p>Fitzwilliam laughed again. She loved him like this, content and cheerful, totally at ease, his guard down. It worried her when he was too serious, too overburdened, and it was always a pleasure to see the weight lifted from his shoulders. She was grateful that he had come through the night unscathed.</p><p>“So all in all, not an entirely tedious evening?” she asked.</p><p>“No,” he answered. “But I am glad that it is over.”</p><p>“As am I,” she agreed. It had been an enjoyable ball, but she was happy to have Fitzwilliam to herself once more.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I will give Darcy relatives in each of Austen's works and no one can stop me.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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